


I Couldn't Possibly Comment

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [47]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Mentioned Gabriel (Good Omens), Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 10:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: "Professor Gabriel's such a jerk," one of the students grumbles, throwing himself into a chair
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [47]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 61
Kudos: 1370
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	I Couldn't Possibly Comment

"Professor Gabriel's such a jerk," Mark grumbles, throwing himself into a chair opposite his housemates.

"What's he done now?" Luc calls from the kitchen where ey is making emself a mug of tea.

Mark grimaced. "Cornered Dr Device to lecture her on how she was all wrong about the theology behind the witch trials."

Matt and John exchange looks. Because yes, everyone knows that Professor Gabriel is something (a big something, not just a bit) of a bastard. But his name is famously an angel's name, and they're suddenly putting two and two together and coming up with marriage. Why wouldn't someone as evil as Dr Crowley be partnered with someone as nasty as Professor Gabriel? It seems like an obvious match, now they're thinking. Both good-looking in their own way, both unpleasant to be around for long, they deserve each other.

The rumour, once it starts, spreads like a wildfire, because it makes so much sense. When John accidentally mentions it in Dr Fell's hearing, he sees the professor go very still, mobile face freezing momentarily around compressed lips. (He's trying very hard not to giggle in the poor student's face as it happens) For just a breath, the mild-mannered man looks almost dangerous, almost angry. Then his face softens as the mouth twitches up at the corners. "It wouldn't be professional of me to comment on the relationships of my fellow professors," he muses, not quite to himself, "but I do believe that Dr Crowley and his husband are - well, I can't say a match made in Heaven, that's rather inaccurate - but certainly ideally suited to each other."

***

As soon as he can get away, Aziraphale closes himself in his office, and calls Crowley.

"What's so urgent, angel, that it can't wait until we're home?"

"My dear," Aziraphale replies, "I do believe I've heard this year's best rumour, and I just wanted to warn you not to be drinking anything when you listen."

Crowley splutters wordlessly for a moment. Then manages, "That bad, angel?"

"Hilariously bad, my dearest. I'll tell you more later." With that he hangs up, and laughs as silently as he can before he gathers up the books he'll need for his next lesson.

In the warmth of the empty greenhouse, Crowley looks at his silent phone and shakes his head. "Bastard," he says, softly, but very fondly. Then he pulls himself together, hides his curiousity behind his usual grumpy mask, and gathers the materials together for his next lesson.

***

" _Gabriel?_ " Crowley chokes out when he finally learns the rumour, his arms flailing at the air as if the thought is a fly buzzing obnoxiously close to his ear. "As if I'd ever want anything to do with that-" he glances over at Warlock, hovering on the edge of the room but still close enough to listen in, and bites off the curse laden string of adjectives he had been going to use to describe Gabriel. Instead, he substitutes, "sanctimonius pile of bull manure."

"Quite," Aziraphale says. "As if I would ever share you with him, my dear wily old serpent."

"That's all right then." Crowley leans into the corner of the sofa and settles his feet in Aziraphale's lap with a wince. He hesitates for a long moment, as Warlock relaxes enough to draw closer too, then murmurs, "Am I really so bad that they think I'm like Gabriel?"

"I think," Aziraphale assures him, "it's more that they heard you saying 'angel' and assumed it was based on the name rather than on the kind of person your husband is."

"Oh. Right. Well then. Ngk. Why me?"

Aziraphale massages Crowley's calves as he waits, and offers nothing except a warm look. Slowly, Crowley's mouth softens from bewilderment into amusement and a slow, wicked, grin pulls at his mouth. "Angel," he says. "Can you just imagine Gabriel's face when he finds out?"

They look at each other, mouths twitching in unison, and then they laugh until tears stream down their faces.


End file.
